Hidden in the Mist
by xCaligula's Commissions
Summary: In which Zabuza gets desperate during an assassination and reveals another use for his signature technique. Warning: contains omorashi.


**A/N: Another art trade that I thoroughly enjoyed doing! This takes place during Zabuza's time as one of Gato's thugs, some time his first canon appearance.**

"Zabuza, the boss wants to see you for a mission," a young man said, trembling a bit. This was the usual response Momochi Zabuza got, especially from the small-time thugs. They were all terrified of him, and rightly so, given his reputation.

He nodded in response, standing and towering over the other man before heading off to see what his boss wanted with him. When he got there, he was told that there was a new target that he needed to take care of, post haste. He had to head out straight away, and so he only had time to grab his large sword before leaving.

This target was nobody to him, just some ex-shinobi turned business hotshot and underground crime boss that Gato felt threatened by. The sooner he was out of the picture, the easier it would be for him to progress, and though he would probably not be much of a challenge, he decided not to take any chances and go straight for the kill with his trump card. And so he sent Zabuza.

The muscular man had a long walk ahead of him before he reached the area where this new threat was operating, but he didn't really mind. He was used to things like that, as they were all part of the job. Today's walk started out just as any other, but it was not long before he started to think that he should have stopped at a bathroom before leaving on this mission.

The light pressure on his bladder was little more than an annoyance, and one that he could easily ignore, though he did wish that it was not an annoyance he had to deal with right now. He contemplated stopping, as he was quite secluded at the moment, but he decided against it. This kill would be too quick and easy; stopping now would only prolong the outcome of the mission. He would be able to hold it until after.

As he walked on, it really seemed as if that would hold true for a while there, but eventually he began to feel a bit more pressure in his lower abdomen. It was slightly painful, and he again contemplated stopping, but again decided that he should worry about taking down his target first.

However, by the time he reached said target, he was in a bit more pain than he had anticipated. As he scoped the situation and took down the few guards this man had, he felt the pressure mounting to the point where he knew he would have normally found some place to relieve himself. _Soon_, he kept telling himself, as he made his way to the room where the target should be. He would lop the guys head off and make use of the guy's bathroom, then head back, no problem.

But even the quick walk to the target's room was riddled with uncomfortable pauses to bend and squirm. This situation was quickly getting a lot worse than he had predicted it would. Perhaps it would be best if he found a vase or something, before the target became aware of his presence in the building.

It was just as he thought this that he felt a presence approaching him. The man had already become aware of him and was attempting to sneak up on him. He cursed his distracted state, as he would have normally become aware of this much sooner. He resisted the urge to groan in frustration as he prepared to face off against the man. Just one quick fight, and then it would all be over.

"I knew they would send someone after me eventually," the man said with a cocky smirk. "I didn't know they'd be scared enough to send someone like you, though. Too bad I'll be taking you down so easily."

"We'll see about that," replied Zabuza, and normally he would have laughed in the man's face for thinking himself capable of winning this fight, but laughing would disrupt his bladder even more, so he refrained from doing so.

The two wasted no time in engaging the other in conflict, exchanging and blocking blows, seemingly evenly matched. Zabuza knew good and well that he was infinitely better than this man, but every twinge from his bladder threw him off his game a little bit more, and it was all he could do to keep up. He was left no openings to draw his sword and go for a decisive strike, and merely had to try to hold his own while his bladder grew closer and closer to emptying without permission.

When he felt his first leak, his cheeks immediately turned red, though he knew it was not enough to be visible and that the man would not know that it had happened. He tried to ignore the sudden embarrassment, but he could not stop blushing as he realized just how close he was to wetting himself.

The more he tried to focus on the battle and not his personal battle, the more frequent his leaks became and the brighter his cheeks burned with total mortification. Soon, it would show on his pants that he was desperate for a piss, and he didn't know how to avoid letting that happen. He had to find a way to end this battle, fast, before it was too late for him.

He was so full at this point that every movement sent a sharp pain through him and he could hardly think straight. Every thought he attempted to have was invaded by the protests from his bladder that he needed to empty straight away. He grit his teeth, trying again and again to formulate some sort of plan, but failing, as all of his focus had to go on blocking attacks and not pissing himself.

Another leak, this one much larger, sent him into a state of total panic. He could tell without looking that there was a small, dark spot on his pants that the other man would surely notice sooner or later. He had to end this now, and he had to somehow cover this up. He needed the right opening for his big finish, and he had to give up some of his concentration to do so.

He could feel more and more liquid escaping him as he turned his focus fully to his fight, but he ignored it long enough to gain the upper hand. As soon as he had his opening, he quickly did the hand signs needed for his Hidden Mist jutsu. A heavy fog quickly descended on the battlefield, and not a moment too soon.

It became impossible to see anything, which was just the advantage he needed, and frequently used. He had to rely entirely on his other senses, but after years of perfecting this technique, that was second nature to him. However, he had another motive for his actions. He knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was not going to make it through this battle, and not long after he became shrouded in mist, he felt a huge spurt escape.

Even being as resigned to his fate as he was, he tried to stop things long enough to draw his sword and deal the final blow. He put a hand between his legs, grabbing himself to get back under control, gritting his teeth a bit as he did so. He made his way toward the target, who was confused and stumbling around, trying to find his way out of the mist, but to no avail. When Zabuza felt that he was enough under control to draw out his sword, he let go of his crotch to grab it.

Without another second of hesitation, his bladder gave out, and he felt overcome with humiliation as he felt his pants soak through and heard the loud splashing against the floor. The target turned around, now able to find him due to the sound, and he wasted no time in delivering the final blow so that the man would not see what was happening.

With the man now taken care of, he released the jutsu and looked down to see the mess he had created. He could not deny that it felt nice to be rid of that problem, but the fact still remained that he had completely pissed through his clothes.

Nobody knew about it yet, at least, and as he prepared to head back, he began to think of ways to cover it up.


End file.
